passages of love and adventure
by yesshirbert
Summary: Based off of "Anne with an E". It has been six months since Gilbert's departure at the end of the season and this is his great return to Avonlea to find Anne and Diana speaking of a great ball to be had! Whimsical dancing and angst are sure to ensue! A series of nonlinear ficlets about Anne and Gilbert's (mis)adventures in Avonlea, primarily composed of requests I receive.
1. of new beginnings

Summary: It has been six months since Gilbert's departure at the end of the season and this is his great return to Avonlea to find Anne and Diana speaking of a great ball to be had! Whimsical dancing and angst are sure to ensue! A series of nonlinear ficlets about Anne and Gilbert's (mis)adventures in Avonlea, primarily composed of requests I receive. Notes: This is a series of canonverse AUs which are nonlinear, but all a part of the same story nonetheless, revolving around Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe after his father's death.  
Prompt/Request from a Tumblr User: "Anne or Gilbert ask the other to a dance."  
A/N: I am way to impatient to write a longer fic which eventually leads into the dance part, so I am going to leave this Part 1 here in the meantime, and I would like to assure people who might be confused about certain references *the kiss* cough cough, it'll all be answered!

Never had Anne ever experienced such delight as when she heard the news of a ball fast approaching this coming season. All of Avonlea had been invited to the momentous occasion, even the simple Anne Shirley herself, by her dear friend Diana Barry.

The two bosom friends sat outside their school house near a quaint stream, sound of which was drowned out by their gaily conversation. The weather was rather pleasant, despite it still being springtime, but warm summer was forthcoming, along with the most exciting events of the season. However, it was still quite chilly due to it being very early in the morn, they had decided to beat most everyone to school, the Barry's had not sent their invitations yet and they simply had to discuss it for themselves without any meddling distractions.

Anne couldn't help herself from imagining a great stallion, saddled by a most pleasant and wild chap, meandering the wild daisies and dandelions in its wake along the fields before her now. Perhaps on his way to escort a blushing Princess Cordelia to a most outstanding ball. Her majesty would no doubt fashion her most impeccable white dress, as only the most refined of individuals could afford to do so, and she would appear as if a bride, a long embroidered veil afloat with the wind upon her pretty head.

Anne was awakened from her most agreeable daydream by Diana, "Oh Anne, you must do your best to convince the Cuthbert's to let you attend! Tell Marilla it is to celebrate your first year in Avonlea. I _won't_ tolerate it without you," she said with undeniable conviction. According to her, the dances had always bored her to no end, there was a strict schedule for all the festivities and she always had to dance with the most disagreeable and uncoordinated of young men, "My ankles always pain me for days afterwards and all of my dresses have been ruined due to their tireless ungainliness!"

Anne mused if Diana had ever been given the pleasure to dance with one gallant and very much missed Gilbert Blythe. Well, mostly missed by all the girls, especially Ruby, Anne had much more important things to concern herself with. Like learning how to sew, embroider, cook, bake, and keeping up with her school studies of course; however that was hardly a challenge for her now with Gilbert's absence.

Diana wretchedly replied that she hadn't, he never could attend due to his father constantly being ill. Anne's thoughts travelled to her conversation with Gilbert after his father's funeral and all the times she had obtained a taste of what it must've been like for him to have to endure such a painful turn of events.

She knew not of his personal turmoil and she had been through enough of them to last her an entire lifetime, even then, she had been careless and oblivious.

" _Its water under the bridge."_

Gilbert had graciously forgiven her, so she eventually approached some sort of redemption.

And so she left the wings of such dark and painful thoughts as Anne refused to be bothered enough to mind the notion of being inconvenienced during a _ball_ , surely Diana was exaggerating, her spirits simply couldn't be dampened by much of anything, "Oh Diana, at least appreciate the fact that you've been able to attend grand balls before! I have never even been in the general vicinity of one, much less attended _once_ in all my years."

But Anne wasn't currently lamenting herself for her many woes, as she often took a lot of her leisurely time to do so, because now that Gilbert had entered her thoughts, she couldn't seem to expel him once more. Sometimes, on very rare occasions, Anne liked to imagine a myriad of different adventures Gilbert could be set on, sometimes he was captaining a most threatening ship overseas as a brave pirate. Other times he was engaged in combat with appalling drunkards, usually protecting the helpless.

Anne also pictured Gilbert in his more superficially tranquil and pensive moments, when all else fell away and he was left with only himself and his thoughts and the sea and she wondered if he might have also ever stopped to think about what she might be achieving during these six months apart. Did he ever remember their almost kiss? Would things have turned out differently for them? Did he feel the same raw almost impossible pull towards her as she had felt during their unaccompanied and shared moments?

She always felt guilty after having such judgements, for she must be the least of his concerns and with good reason. He mustn't have many positive recollections of their time together, not after she had treated him with such persistent ambivalence for so long. No, but he must think about his father frequently, then did ever cry out to the injustices in this world?

When he is alone in the darkness of night, in the shadow of all the grief and suffering that had plagued him, is he ever fuming in the face of the universe, in the face of God even?

More often than Anne would like to admit, she worried for Gilbert Blythe and mourned his boisterous laughter, tongue-in-cheek attitude, compassionate fleeting looks and stares she caught when he thought she wasn't looking. In truth, in her plight towards overlooking Gilbert, her actions had the most contrary effect in her. There is no ignoring someone who always stays near you, in thought or in heart and soul. There's simply no alluding it.

"Please, we're only fourteen years young," Diana teased, breaking Anne's reverie once again, while she committed a rather apparent burglary of Anne's lemon slices, "So you're coming?"

Anne played coy for a few beats, relishing in Diana's impatience as she leisurely bit into her scone. Staring off towards the vast and greening fields before her, Anne discerned a most familiar figure making his way towards the school in the distance, "Diana, the most bizarre apparition is currently deceiving me…surely it must be," Anne gasps, rotating her friend's head right around to face the clearing and the dark-haired young man moving steadfast for them.

Now tanned skin, the brightest of hazel eyes, illuminated by the morning sun, taller in stature, his face longer and with more dimension, but the same wistful dark and curly locks. It certainly must be him. The only way for her to improve upon this sight would be for him to be atop a magnificent stallion, then this would certainly match her fantasies. Quickly now, all about the ball was forgotten in puffs of smoke in the figure's wake.

 _How could it be?_

The odds of such an event. Today of all days, during this conversation, right here and right now. Anne desired nothing other than to call out to him, to jump and wave her arms as if a bird in flight after being caged for so long without being in the know of having been behind bars at all, but in spite of such fervent desires, she couldn't find the strength to move an inch.

"Well speak of the devil…" Anne gasps, overcome by her sudden urgency to move to scream, to do something adventurous and _free._

"Anne!" Diana chastised, perturbed by her language. Quite literally, she pulled Anne up from her contemplations to stand alongside her. She cupped her hands over her eyes to shield them from the incoming sun, "I see him too," she smiled, excitedly turning to Anne.

Gilbert wears a very light-green colored shirt, which even from afar, Anne could admire how lovely it compliments his eyes; his clothes are a striking contrast from his coats, hats, scarves, and sweaters he used to wear from this past winter. It suits him, Anne thought, he seems _lighter,_ which doesn't deter from his immense presence.

"Do you think he's noticed us yet?" Diana asks, her chocolate eyes as bright as ever, matching Anne's own internal excitement. Oh how she struggles in maintaining a cool composure over herself.

"Maybe you should go welcome him back for the both of us," Anne whispered, turning down towards her packed breakfast in her quick attempt to excuse herself from the situation, "I'll just go…"

In all of her musings, Anne had never the courage to imagine the event of Gilbert's return. Well, at least never like this, never during a beautiful Friday morning, with the sun glistening off of the trees and their leaves and her eyes and his own in such an attractive fashion… No, she imagined him simply appearing at his desk one day, beside his friend Charlie, pencil and paper at the ready, head slightly tilted towards her at all times, as if a curious bird, always observing.

 _Just… come back someday._

Diana grasped at her hands and unceremoniously pulled Anne away from her things, "Don't do this. Don't throw away every day you spent with him after his father's death. Don't throw away all the progress the both of you made together as friends at last. You worked so hard to amend things between the two of you, so don't toss it all away."

"I'm not running from anything," Anne said, pulling herself away.

"I never said you were running, but that certainly does match your behavior," spoke Diana, her eyes wide, revealing Anne's own fearful ones. Anne hadn't raised herself to ever be frail or timid or scared or to ever run away. Diana couldn't have spoken truer words, Anne valued Gilbert very much and didn't want to escape him. All she wanted was more _time._

She needed time to think about what to say and most importantly what _not_ to say and she couldn't do so _now_ and not _here_. Exclusively because their eyes had inadvertently met across the clearing, sending Anne into a shuddering frenzy in her skin, stomach, heart, and soul. Gilbert's dark brows furrowed as he himself examined her and she found a hint of recognized as the telltale signs of a grin began to appear upon his expression.

"I'm positive he sees us now," Diana pointed out, straightening her lovely yellow dress with the most puffed of sleeves and tried to busy herself with Anne's as well, but she knew not much could be done with such a plain gray dress, at the very least it was new.

"Diana, listen to me. I am about to engage in what might seem to most as an improper and unladylike act and so I will trust in you to alert me if you see anyone else coming to the school and to _not_ make this into more of a spectacle afterwards as I will deny all recollection until the day I shall perish," Anne vowed as she handed her friend her flower adorned hat without further deliberation on her actions.

"Anne, you're frightening me," Diana said, clutching Anne's hat and books, but Anne was no longer paying her any attention, as she took a most deliberate breath in order to calm her nerves. Gilbert had begun to wave in their direction, his sweet curls twirling in the wind, he was holding a set of books under his arm, which Anne recognized as her own.

Before she had time to second-guess her feelings, Anne began to run out into the clearing towards a very perplexed Gilbert, defying all expectancies around her of how a lady ought to act, and she ran as if a fiery blaze were assaulting her feet and she didn't care if her braids were becoming undone against the sweet wind's current because she only cared for what _she_ wanted and _wanted_ to be unrestricted and rash in this moment, for the hurt of missing Gilbert Blythe had just crashed down onto her.

And then from one moment to the next, Anne halted only a mere foot away from Gilbert, breathing heavily now, her chest rising and falling in the space between them. He was so close to her then, his eyes searching hers and Anne boldly met them in kind, still struggling to catch her breath and from this proximity, she could discern his now tautly tanned face, causing the green in his eyes to become more prominent, reminding her of the bottomless emerald lakes throughout Avonlea. Gilbert seemed both immensely surprised and endlessly inviting, the corners of his mouth grew taut and lose in question, but neither had he spoken then.

Yet, Anne couldn't seem to expel words or movement and stood still as a tree in the face of a most unlikely kindred spirit.


	2. Came To The Cold (Just To See You)

Summary: Hey everyone! This is a reimagining of my already posted reimagining of the beautiful funeral scene, you can read it also if you'd like, but this one has a twist in the end, that falls more in line with the canon scene. So please read this as well, even if you have already read the original, as this one is different. I had this finished some days ago, but I wanted to include it into this story as well, to provide a backstory.  
Don't worry, a dancing scene is still coming and Gilbert's POV is on its way

Inspired by the song below and its lyrics. honestly, as soon as I heard this song I thought about Anne and Gilbert and how well it suits their story. This is unbetaed and so I would like to extend an invitation towards anyone who has any suggestions! Sorry in advance for any grammatical or syntactical errors.

"Josh McBride" By The Head and the Heart _"Came to the cold just to see you Standing there in expectation Pulling coat and blue eyes staring Oh, this vision does me good."_

 _Please let me know what you think!_

 _"...so it's more than possible that when Gilbert finally comes back to school...he'll be an orphan."_

Anne's own contemplative words kept ringing incessantly in her ears throughout the entire funeral. The regret of having never realized how dire the circumstances truly were for her schoolmate, regret of having treated Gilbert as if he would be returning to school soon enough, as if his father wasn't slowly perishing before him. Everyday-how painful it must've been for him. The weight of having to grow-up too quickly, of losing his innocence, of losing his father must be unbearable too him now. So much that he carried himself as if he physically was burdened by the weight of everything he'd lost...

 _"you should've been there for him"_

Why wasn't she?

Within his pleasant dark eyes, there was a sadness which resided there, deep within them, always masked by the wrinkles around them produced by his boyish grins and knowing smiles.

Even now, moving towards the quaint graveyard across the sea of white, providing such a grim contrast between the mourner's black clothing and the essential incandescence of snow. Anne had never particularly cared for the winter months as the bleakness offered little to room for the imagination. After all, a grand sweeping romance never should take place in the middle of winter, not when it embodies the death of all beauty in the world. There are no more vibrant flowers winking back towards Anne as she walks to and from school, no more waving blossom tree just outside her window, no more bird songs to distract her from her own self-deprecating inner monologues, and no more youthful, exuberant Gilbert Blythe.

Anne thought it interesting to notice how if she were an outsider looking into this flock of mourners, she wouldn't be able to identify who was the immediate family member of the decreased. Gilbert blends into the crowd with such easiness, something he'd never been able to do before. To simply disappear within a sea of people; Gilbert Blythe stands out as a lone yellow daisy amid a passionate flurry, if only to Anne, who couldn't tear her stare away from him long enough to even blink. Funny, before she would've happily averted her curious eyes from Gilbert's own winking ones all day long, perhaps that is why she never noticed how he had begun to recede within himself, collapsing under his own weight. It's so clear to her now, painfully clear.

Gilbert's gentlemanly tendencies towards everyone around him has caused him to hide a fundamental part of himself and a fundamental phase of his life; him mourning his innocence. Perhaps, he had felt it weeks or months before this day had finally arrived, his childhood ending along with his father's life. Maybe, like Anne, he suffered from an abundance of the imagination and imagined what his life would be like if his father was well. Would Anne have met a different Gilbert Blythe then?

 _Orphan._

There is a possibility of Gilbert knowing his father wasn't going to get better and that he was to become an orphan with time when he first met Anne. When he first defended her and enquired as to whether she needed any more dragon's slain; Gilbert might've known who she was and where she had come from, causing him to feel the ghostly presence of the empathy to come.

Anne tried to maintain her composure throughout the service, she hadn't registered when the party had become still or when the priest had begun to deliver Mr. Blythe towards his final journey; her eyes began to water. The icy chill thankfully prevented her from crying, as the arctic winds quickly dried all humidity from her reddening eyes. She struggled to blink back her tears as slowly as possible as to not shed them in such a public manner. This was Gilbert father's funeral and he stood as still and as pale as his father was lying in his coffin, before his son's distant downcast gaze. It wasn't Anne's place to cry for a man she barely knew or for his son's sadness- a boy she had actively been pushing away. If anything, Gilbert needed those around him to be strong, just as he was being in the face of such a personal tragedy.

Gilbert possibly wouldn't have been as eager to befriend her; Anne, the pale, skinny, red-haired, orphaned girl, if he wasn't already experiencing the beginnings of being all alone in the world. Anne had no way to gauge the true nature of Gilbert's friendly advances and general chivalry, not then and not now. How could she? Anne barely knew him, even after having visited his home to deliver books and homework, she still scarcely knew anything about Gilbert Blythe.

Perchance he'd been reaching out towards the only person who'd be able to fully and absolutely understand what he was going through. But of course, Anne being the socially inept girl she had always been, she brushed the well-meaning boy off. Based off of all of the anecdotal accounts from schoolmates that Anne had involuntarily received and her experiences with him, Gilbert is a good person. He doesn't deserve this and he certainly doesn't deserve the way she has treated him.

Gilbert Blythe deserves a clean slate just as much as anybody else—no pun intended.

A silent solemn promise was the way Anne wanted to end her stretch contemplating her time with Gilbert; she promised to be a better friend to him and most importantly- a more understanding and compassionate one as she observed how Gilbert painfully clenched his jaw and tightened his fists as the service ended with the priest's final mournful words, signaled by the gentle closing of his tattered Bible, and he never once glanced towards his neighbors and friends once they began to unhurriedly disperse towards the Blythe residence for the reception.

Marilla was too overcome with the funeral to notice Anne's reluctance to leave with her, but nevertheless she blindly headed onwards with the rest of the congregation of people. Anne almost followed suit, Gilbert needed time to process alone. At least, that's what she told herself to justify leaving, but she moved at a snail's pace, blaming the rough fallen snow of being a primary hindrance to her movement, but couldn't help herself from glancing over her shoulder towards Gilbert. Mathew took a few moments to release his sister in order to whisper to Anne if she wanted to meet them inside. This shook her from her reverie enough for her to catch Mathew nodding towards the now orphaned boy, as if he knew exactly the cause of Anne's hesitation.

They were soon becoming the last people left in the clearing and so Anne quickly delivered the most convincing nod and smile she could materialize at the time, not wanting to break the sudden silence around them, when in truth she wanted nothing more than to run and hide. Mathew knowingly nodded towards the house and reassuringly gripped her shoulder. Before long, everyone had disappeared into the Blythe house, now filled with the glaring absence of both Blythe men.

Gilbert gave away no signs of being aware of Anne's lingering presence as he leisurely made his way towards a stone bench on the other side of his father's grave and the men who now deliver Mr. Blythe back to the earth for eternity. Anne decided to continue towards the house to make her way around full circle towards Gilbert, without having to approach him forthright and to give off the illusion of her deciding to join the Cuthbert's inside.

In that time, Gilbert had extended his palm towards the greying heavens, effectively capturing a single snowflake. Somberly, Gilbert watched it melt and slowly slide from his palm and onto the ground at his feet, as though that single liquefied snowflake were the tear he couldn't bring himself to shed.

Rose had mentioned how the sadness within Gilbert appeared to accentuate his already handsome features and although that statement may be true…

 _Snap out of it, Anne Shirley Cuthbert!_

Before Anne could realize, she now stood beside Gilbert's bench as the men too began to retread towards their respective modes of transportation back to town, but the boy before her paid them no heed as they expressed their condolences before departing. Anne didn't know what to do or what to say but she oftentimes found that the most profound thing anyone could do for a hurting friend, is to simply express their earnest support and to listen. For once just listen… Yes, that'll have to do.

The already barely above freezing temperature was beginning to drop even lower and Anne wished she had the good sense to bring her gloves along as she watched Gilbert place his own pair on, as if getting ready to leave himself.

Just before he could do so, Anne interrupted him, "Hey Gi—I…" Anne cleared her throat, she didn't want to begin the conversation in such a nonchalant manner, but she was becoming noticeably uncomfortable at the moment and just like in most situations, Anne could feel a nonsensical nervous rant coming along.

"Do you mind if I join you, Gilbert?" she asked, awkwardly reaching for her braids to place them on either side of her chest, only to remember they were in a pretty ribbon at the moment. Gilbert glanced upwards and quizzically raised an eyebrow at her ministrations, she quickly made as though her intention was to straighten her knitted cap and once again cleared her throat.

"Sure," he replied, moving further down in order to give her more space and to Anne's surprise, she thought she detected a faint twinkle in Gilbert's dark eyes, as though he were about to crack a half-smile at her antics.

Suddenly without words, Anne straightened her skirts as best she could once she sat down to avoid the incoming chill and in an attempt to maintain her freezing hands occupied. Still they shook and so she decided to simply hug herself as though it could aid her in keeping her wits about her without spilling her guts all over the place. It was comfortable, more so than she had imagined, it was nice just to sit next to Gilbert, without arguing about school or him calling her "Carrots". Not even with Anne's extensive creative capabilities could she have envisioned such a peculiarity.

And then she remembered what she had mustered all of her courage to do, the constant fog emanating from her mouth without words to follow, ripped Anne from her musing. She turned her contemplation towards Gilbert, who had returned to clenching his jaw, his nostrils visibly flaring, perhaps from the cold. But they were in the presence of his father's freshly dug grave and Anne couldn't imagine what she would do in his situation. After all, Anne imagined she too would be extremely angry at the universe for ripping her away from her family in such a way. However, she had lost her parents as a baby, and subsequently had no memory of them to mourn.

"I wanted to express my sincerest condolences for the loss of your father, Gilbert," Anne said, nervously clasping her hands within each other, Gilbert nodded pensively and his eyes settled on her shaking hands, "I'm fine," she reassured him, but next thing Anne knew, he was removing his gloves, "No I'm fi—"

"Anne, you're shaking," Gilbert scolded, handing her his black woolen gloves. Anne couldn't help appreciating how comfortable they looked, but she instead quickly grasped Gilbert's warm bare hands, "Anne?" His brows were furrowed and she could see his chest rising and falling with greater speed.

Anne ignored her creeping blush and breathed in deeply, "Although I hardly knew Mr. Blythe, I do know that he was a good father to you and that you love him deeply. I cannot fathom what you must be enduring now, Gilbert. I know that because of my pride, I haven't been as good a friend to you as I should be. I want you to know that if you ever need anything at all, you can come to me."

Anne's hands had become warm from griping Gilbert's as if he were about to be enveloped by the earth itself if not for her anchoring him to her, "I'm so sorry, Gilbert."

Her last words came out as a whisper now, she felt light-headed and relieved and proud of herself for finally moving on.

Anne frowns once it became clear to her that Gilbert wasn't going to accept her apology. His stare remained cold and distant, never once concentrating on her own, instead they were downcast once more.

 _He's just thinking. Give him some breathing room._

Precipitously, Anne removed her hands from Gilbert's and immediately missed their warmth, but settled on keeping them within her coat's pockets.

"You know," Anne grinned fondly in the direction of Mr. Blythe's grave, "When I met your father, I was delivering your books from school that first day, he actually _complimented_ my hair."

Anne remembered that cold afternoon quite vividly, in fact. Mr. Blythe's eyes reminded her of his own son's, despite all illness, they still sustained their youthful glow. Anne tried to find that same ripple of movement in Gilbert's expression now, some sort of reflecting light within the pools of gloom.

"He didn't call you carrots did he?" His words were not teasing, but biting instead, almost leaving marks upon her skin with their ferocity, "I don't imagine you had your slate on you that day."

Anne's already swollen cold face flushed from her shame at the notorious memory and she fought the strong urge to bitingly retort back. Gilbert's face hardened as soon as his dark eyes met her own green ones and her heart instantly dropped to the pits of her stomach.

"I'm just trying to—"

"I don't need your pity, Anne," Gilbert stands before her now, brushing off the snow from his coat, his form facing the woods. His hands clenched in the same way they were before and his already pale hands whitened further under his grip.

Anne follows suit and quickly cuts Gilbert off from leaving, "Hold on, I was just trying to deliver my condolences, Gilbert."

Gilbert swiftly approaches her until their fogged breath intermingles in the thinning space between them, "Would you suddenly be so inclined to direct your company towards me if my father were still alive, because up until a few days ago, you could barely stand to look at me," despite Gilbert's advances, Anne refused to budge, "If you didn't want anything to do with me from the beginning, I don't see why anything has to change."

Anne gasped for words, for anything to say to dismiss his concerns, but he isn't mistaken. At the rate Anne was going, she wasn't going to forgive Gilbert for the Carrots debacle or for being her academic rival and driving her mad due to his forlorn stares for as long as they both drew breath. However, she couldn't stop herself from focusing on Gilbert's reddening lips which were no longer twisted into a scowl, but instead were slightly agape now. She naturally gravitated towards them and brought her gaze towards his noticeably deepening hazel eyes.

Anne imagined herself as a romantic heroine from one of the countless novels she had read and Gilbert as the broodingly handsome hero. This unquestionably would be the scene in which both would fiercely embrace and would mutually realize their shared feelings for each other. In the novel, which is not reality, perhaps they'd even share a quick, almost stolen kiss.

But Anne could not bring herself to move another step because although she had always been a hopeless romantic, on occasion she'd picture kissing a pleasant and handsome gentleman, but never had she imagined it would be like this. Perhaps in the middle of a beautiful meadow, during the springtime, when all new life spreads upon the earth like wildfire, always consuming, nourished by the very air we breathe in order to survive. Not to mention, Anne could not imagine kissing someone who had just watched their father die before them, especially not minutes after the funeral.

Even if Anne were thinking about kissing Gilbert, which she really wasn't even _considering_ it, what a terrible kiss it would be; marred by the woe of all their burdens. Neither deserve that hanging over their heads.

Nevertheless, (because she certainly _wasn't_ about to smooch Gilbert) Anne wasn't living within the pages of her most beloved romance novel and Gilbert Blythe certainly _wasn't_ her love interest- they instead lived within the confines of reality.

Gilbert's own stare follows her downwards gaze until he grimaces and diverts his eyes, "See you," he says to her curtly, sidestepping around Anne towards the clearing.

Anne rapidly throws herself in front of him again, never once removing her own frown.

"I said—"

"Stop it! At this point, I don't care if you never forgive me for how horrible I've been to you or for my incredibly untactful timing. You can loathe me as vehemently as I was cold to you, Gilbert. But you need to know—I couldn't care less if you do," Anne took Gilbert's now gloved hand into her own shaking ones, "I'll be here. Even if you never need me… You're not alone."

Anne finally released a breath, not bothering to release Gilbert's hand. She had to make him understand. Even if she couldn't understand her own feelings, he needed to capture at least an ounce of her exuding sincerity.

Gilbert does not attempt to pull himself away, which Anne takes as a good sign. After all, Gilbert was not currently just angered at her, but at the entire world, the universe itself couldn't possibly contain everything he might be feeling. Even if he did shun her, even if he were to push Anne away, she knew not to take it personally. Gilbert's face is indecipherable to Anne, when once his aspect was so exposed and carefree, but she thinks she sees a faint hint of cordiality contained in his eyes.

Anne smiles as she finally finds her herself satisfied with her progress with Gilbert enough to release his hand, "And to answer your inquiry… I don't think I was going to be friendly towards you anytime soon. If you couldn't tell already, I am exceptionally stubborn."

Gilbert almost snorts at this, "That's another thing we have in common, at least."

Anne can't bring herself to laugh at his half-joke, for it is too morbid, but not untrue.

 _…he'll be an orphan._

"Is that why you think we're now de-facto kindred spirits? Because we're both orphans?" Gilbert asked, circling Anne again, while moving further away. His words had left him with a feather light tone of distain, he was making fun of her.

"You know that's not what I meant," she tells him, tears forming in her eyes, keeping herself at a distance, allowing him to vent and to scream if he needed to, but she didn't have to be his scapegoat either.

"It would make a lot of sense actually, for you to somehow manage to make this about—"

 _Yourself._

Gilbert couldn't finish his sentence, he stepped away from Anne, closing his red-rimmed eyes as he turned around towards the clearing, "I shouldn't of—"

Anne couldn't allow him to continue, not when she noticed several curious faces at the windows, one of which being Josephine's and another Marilla's, she needed to end this before others took notice as well, which would undoubtedly cause more of a scene, "If you want to go off on your own, then fine, I won't be in your way. But we _will_ continue this, Blythe."

With those curt words, Anne spun right around and began to walk towards Gilbert's home, catching Marilla's concerned liquid blue eyes and so she held onto her tears further. She couldn't cry, not then and especially not now, not when she already felt like she had turned a boy's grief about her own instead, and she prayed for Gilbert to stop her. For him to say anything, for him to take back his words, or simply ask her to stay with him awhile longer.

He never did.

All he offered were the crushing sounds of his boots upon the snow as he slowly left her behind, alone with her own unshed tears.

TBC

Notes: So, that was hard to write. I know Gilbert was mean, but I took some creative liberty, since he is grieving and is justifiably suspicious of Anne's sudden intentions of being friendly so soon after his fathers death. Don't hate me! It all has a happy ending :)

Notes: I sure hope all you lovely readers liked the chapter! Please leave me kudos or a comment (or both) to show your support! Feel free to leave requests as I use them to weave the story together!  
Btw, the next chapter will be in Gilbert's POV (will there be a hug? a kiss perchance? I guess youll have to stick around and see :)


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